The Ties That Bind
by rainingonsunday
Summary: Swanfire AU: When he's just 14 years old, a shotgun blast kills Baelfire Gold's mother and puts his father on trial for murder. Bae must embark on a midnight journey with a mysterious social worker that takes him away from everything he's ever known, including his best friend, Emma Swan. Many years later, a familiar blonde crosses his path and Bae's dark past catches up with him.
1. Don't Look Back

_._

_"Out on the road today I saw a Deadhead sticker on a Cadillac._

_A little voice inside my head said_

_'Don't look back, you can never look back.'_

_I thought I knew what love was, what did I know?_

_Those days are gone forever, I should just let them go."_

-_D_on _H_enley

Here's the thing. I'm not the kind of man you deserve. I know that. I've got more scars than I can count, and not a single one can be physically seen on my body.

But do you remember that day, shortly after your eleventh birthday, when we went down to the creek like we always used to… the very first day we went there together?

You were so homesick for Boston. You didn't think you'd ever be able to call Storybrooke your home. I told you the story of the time that August and his old man went down south for two years for a construction job. At just ten years old, August came back and told all sorts of stories about his time down there, and then gave me some of the best advice I've ever gotten, advice that I then passed on to you that day at the creek. He said "That's how you know you've really got a home. When you leave it, there's this feeling you can't shake. You just miss it."

I don't know if I ever had a home in Storybrooke, when I think about what August said that day. Since I left, I haven't really grown to miss it much. Not the old garage where Leroy taught us how to fix cars. Not the steady bustle of the regulars grabbing a meal at the diner. Not the playground where August and I used to sword fight with nothing but a couple of wooden sticks and our imaginations. Not what's left of the family I'd once thought to be inseperable. Not my father. Not the man who killed my mother. Not the darkness that's been haunting me ever since a strange man showed up at my house one night and claimed to be taking me to safety. My past in that town is as dark as the ink that I use to write this letter.

But there is one thing I miss about that place. One thing that I've found myself searching fruitlessly for since the day I left Storybrooke. One thing more than anything else in the world that I've come to realize I considered my home.

You.

Here's the thing. I love you. I'm always going to love you. It's easy to keep my feet moving away from everything I've ever known, everything I've ever loved. But as far as my feet take me, my heart's been left behind in a small town called Storybrooke, and I don't think I can ever return for it.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

"One… two… three!"

A splash erupted from the river as the children all leapt into the water at once. Twelve-year-old Baelfire Gold surfaced and turned to his friends, August and Wendy, as their heads appeared above the water as well. "Race you back to the top!" He gestured to the small cliff from which they had just jumped.

Before the others could respond, a voice interrupted them from the river's edge. "Bae!"

Baelfire turned to see his father standing there, his mother waiting further away from the water, trying not to get wet.

"Come along, we're going to get lunch at the diner. Why don't you invite your friends?" Robert Gold beckoned to his son.

Bae turned and silently asked his friends what they wanted to do. Both August and Wendy nodded eagerly, never ones to turn down an invitation.

The children scrambled from the water, quickly drying themselves off with the towels they'd brought with them before following Bae's parents to the diner. The other children in the small town of Storybrooke, Maine had always been skeptical of being anywhere near Robert Gold, as he wasn't always the kindest individual. But Bae loved August and Wendy, and Mr. Gold loved Bae, so he was always a nice as he could be to the other two children. Bae's mother, Milah, however, was adored by all. August and Wendy loved coming over and listening to her sing while she baked them fresh cookies in the oven. August, who was raised by a single father after his own mother died when he was just three years old, often wished Milah could be his mother. Milah coming along for the trip was what made it so easy to say yes to the offer of lunch.

The group rounded the last corner to the diner, and Bae, August, and Wendy ran on ahead, barging through the diner's door like a pack of wild animals. They quickly settled down once they seated themselves in a booth and Bae's parents soon joined them.

Granny's diner was one of Bae's favorite places in Storybrooke, besides the river where he and his friends often swam. Cozy booths lined one wall, a small bar against the other, with scattered tables filling the space in between. It was also a favorite among almost all of the townspeople. Everyone knew everyone in a place like Storybrooke, so though small, the diner was often loud with the sounds of friends greeting friends, making small talk, or joking around. Today, there were quite a few other patrons seated in the other booths and at the tables nearby.

It was just busy enough that Bae almost didn't notice three faces at one of the tables that he did not recognize.

There were a young looking couple, holding hands and smiling. But Bae barely paid them any mind. He was too busy looking at the young girl seated across from them, her short legs dangling from the too-high chair, her blond curls falling over her shoulders, and her toothy grin lighting up her face.

His friends ordered their food, but Baelfire hardly noticed. He absentmindedly pretended to peruse the menu, but his eyes kept glancing at the girl seated with her parents a few tables over. He watched as she swung her legs back and forth under her chair and laughed at something her father said.

"Why don't you go say hello?" Mr. Gold interrupted his thoughts, catching his son at he kept not so subtlety glancing at the unfamiliar girl. She looked about the same age. Robert supposed that maybe his son could befriend her and help her settle into town.

"Yeah, come on, we'll go with you." August said, moving to get out of the booth and gesturing for Wendy to follow. Baelfire gave in and soon the three of them found themselves standing in front of the new family, who looked up from their conversation with friendly smiles on their faces.

"Hello," Bae said, managing to find his tongue despite his realization that the girl had the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen. They somehow managed to be stormy blue and grey and earthy green and hazel all at the same time. "My name's Baelfire. This is Wendy and August." He introduced each of his friends with a gesture towards each of them.

"Hey Baelfire." The girl's father took it upon himself to respond. He seemed like a friendly enough guy, tall and handsome with a short crop of blond hair and an open face that made him approachable. "My name's David Swan. This is my wife, Mary Margaret." He raised a hand in the direction of the woman sat opposite him at the diner's small table. She too had an openness about her, but where her husband's hair was light, her's was pitch black. "And this is our daughter, Emma."

Emma. Now he had a name to go with the vision of cascading gold curls and enigmatic eyes.

Years later, Bae had a lot of memories of Storybrooke that he'd much rather forget. Meeting Emma Swan was most definitely not one of them.

**A/N: I have big plans for this story, as long as I can keep interest in writing it. Only two people know the outline for the whole story & my plans to come. Please review and let me know what you think so far! Reviews make the world go around. And Nat & Irene, I know what you're thinking. I told you my plans for this months ago. I'm a horrible slacker that put off starting this fic for that long. I'll make it up to you! (Frappuccinos all around, right Nat? xD)**


	2. Edge of the Miraculous

_._

_"You never know when you're gonna meet someone_

_and your whole wide world in a moment comes undone_

_You're just walking around and suddenly_

_Everything that you thought that you knew about love is gone_

_You find out it's all been wrong,_

_and all my scars don't seem to matter anymore_

_'cause they led me here to you."_

-_D_aughtry

Baelfire was almost amazed at how quickly Emma fit in to their close-knit group of friends. He, Wendy, and August had grown up together, and as there weren't many children in such a small town as Storybrooke, they were practically inseparable. But with Emma, it was easy to pretend she'd been with them for years. She met them for meals at the diner. She joined them when Wendy and her brothers, Michael and John, had their usual Saturday night campfires. She even came out to August's house to help him and his dad with their carpentry work.

A few weeks after Emma and her family's arrival in town, that's where rainy afternoons such as this one found her and her friends: tucked away in Marco's garage, eagerly watching his skilled hands demonstrate the inner workings of a large clock. Soon enough, Marco instructed them to finish touching up the paint on the outside of the clock while he retrieved them some refreshments.

Bae enjoyed spending time with his friends regardless, but he was particularly fond of helping Marco out with his woodworking. Marco was like another father or grandfather to all of August's friends.

As they painted away, Bae and Wendy on the large sides of the clock, and August and Emma on the finer details around the top of it, Marco came back with a tray full of glasses of lemonade. An unspoken agreement among the occupants of the garage decided on taking a break and everyone grabbed a glass.

"Hey, the weather's supposed to be nice tomorrow," August said. "We should go down to the creek for a swim in the morning."

"The creek?" Emma asked, looking up from where she'd been absentmindedly inspecting a carving of a whale that August had made when he was younger.

"Yeah, it'll be fun. We have a spot that we go to, just down past the railroad tracks. There's rocks that you can jump off of and stuff. It's great!" August told her. "I can't believe we haven't taken you there yet."

"Well in our defense, it's been pretty dreary out lately," Bae said with a pointed look towards the window. The rain had cleared up, but even when it wasn't raining, it had been dull and grey outdoors for quite a while.

"I'm all for swimming, but jumping off rocks? That sounds a little scary…" Emma said, sounding unsure.

"It's not that high of a jump." Bae assured her. "We do it all the time. It's not scary once you try it."

Emma still seemed uncertain but agreed to go with them regardless. As the sun continued it's steady decent into the horizon, Marco sent them all home after making them promise to be careful at the creek the next day.

Baelfire walked home in a state of bliss. Time spent with his friends always put a smile on his face, but spending time with Marco, for whatever reason, helped him clear his head. He focused on what the older man put before him to work on, and any problems he had got put on the back burner.

Too bad that bliss didn't last that night.

As he pushed open the door of his home, Bae could hear his father's raised voice coming loud and clear from the kitchen. "Well if you're that unhappy, dear, why don't you just go."

_Go?_

"You know very well it's not that simple." Milah's voice shot back.

Bae could tell recently that his parents hadn't been getting along, but he'd never heard them arguing like this before. He tried to be discreet and quietly made his way up the stairs to his bedroom. His exhaustion from the day caught up with him, and he landed on his bed with a thud, pulling a pillow over his head to muffle the shouts coming from downstairs. He could no longer make out their words, but that was the first night of many that he fell asleep to the sound of his parents fighting.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

"Morning! I'm meeting Emma and her parents for breakfast and then we're going to the creek. See you later." Baelfire said in a rush, as if it were all one really quick sentence. He breezed past his father, who was seated at their kitchen table sipping his morning coffee. Robert's mood must not have recovered much from the previous night. He halfheartedly stared into his coffee mug, as if it were a crystal ball that held the answers as to why his wife was so unhappy with him.

By the time Bae pushed open the door to the diner, Emma and her parents were seated at a table near the back of the diner. Emma looked up from her usual cinnamon hot chocolate and gave him a toothy grin and a small wave as he approached their table.

"Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Swan. Sorry I'm late!" Bae said as he took a seat beside Emma, who sat opposite her parents.

"Nonsense! There is no 'late' when it comes to Granny's." David remarked. He had a point. No one ever came into the diner in a hurry or looking for a quick meal. That was what everyone liked so much about it. It had a quiet, relaxed atmosphere and some of the best meals anywhere in Maine.

Without a word, the waitress, Ruby, came over and put Bae's usual hot chocolate (sans cinnamon) in front of him. He carelessly took a sip without letting it cool first and thanked Ruby before ordering a small breakfast of eggs and toast.

The Swans and Bae chatted aimlessly during their meal. ("How was the woodworking last night?" "Do you guys want a picnic lunch for your trip to the creek?" "Are you going out to the Darlings' for a fire tonight?") Bae and Emma replied as best they could in their excitement to finish their meal and head out for the day. ("It was good." "No, we'll grab something at Wendy's house." "Yes. Always. Every Saturday.")

Finally the two of them put down their empty hot chocolate mugs and stood. Bae thanked Emma's parents for breakfast and turned to follow Emma, who was already at the door.

"Bae, wait a second."

Bae turned back to find David standing as well. "Yes sir?"

David smiled at the unnecessary formality and said, "Don't tell her I said anything, but Emma's birthday's coming up. And well, we wanted to throw her a small surprise party tomorrow afternoon, since not a lot of people are busy on Sundays. Can you come?"

Bae looked up at the older man and smiled back. "Absolutely." There would be no way he'd miss his new friend's birthday celebration.

"Alright. Emma will probably be out with you guys tomorrow anyway. Bring her back to our place around 2?"

Bae agreed and headed for the door, but not before promising to tell August, Wendy, John, and Michael as well.

Emma, by this point, was waiting impatiently on the sidewalk out front of the diner, theatrically tapping her foot, arms crossed.

"What did he want?"

"It was nothing. He just wanted to thank me for joining you guys for breakfast." Bae admitted that he wasn't the best at cover stories, but Emma seemed to accept his response, and together they headed for the creek.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

"No. No way am I jumping off of this thing." Emma said from the top of the small cliff at the kids' usual spot at the creek.

"Come on, it's not that bad." Bae tried to assure her, motioning to below where August and Wendy were, having already taken their turns jumping in.

"No, Bae, I can't. I can't do it. I'm afraid." Emma stood frozen, staring down the drop from where she stood to the pool of water below, where her two other friends were distracted by looking for crayfish.

"Emma. Emma, look at me." Bae took ahold of his friend's shoulders and turned her so that she was looking at him, not the drop that she was so afraid of. "Look at it this way. Everyone's afraid of something. Everyone has fears. But you can't live by giving in to them that easily."

Emma seemed unconvinced. "You're just saying that to get me to jump."

"Maybe I am. But I'm also saying it because it's true. Because I care about you, Emma. You're never going to know what you can do until you jump." Bae stated, meaning it both figuratively and literally.

"You make it sound like some profoundly important task."

"It can be, if you let it. Past this edge," he gestured down to the edge of the rock they were standing on, "is something great. In a way, we're at the edge of the miraculous, and dang it, Emma, you're a miraculous person and you're going to make that jump. But you don't have to do it alone," he finished, holding out a hand. "Come on, we'll do it together."

Emma hesitantly took his hand in her own, glancing back at the creek below before turning back to Baelfire. "Okay."

"Okay." Bae smiled. "I'll be by your side the whole time."

The two back up, hand in hand, giving themselves room for a running start. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

"One…"

"Two."

"Three!" Bae yelled, and together they sprang from the cliff, still hand in hand. For a brief moment, they felt like they were floating, but they quickly dropped into the water below.

Bae's head surfaced first, Emma following a second later. She was grinning ear to ear, her eyes lit up like a blue and green fire.

"Let's do it again!"

Bae grinned back at her. Emma's enthusiasm was contagious, and soon all four of them were climbing back up the rock, using a cord that had long ago been attached to a tree at the top and dangled over the edge.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

"So you got her to jump then?" John, the older of Wendy's two brothers said while they all sat around the campfire that night. These campfires had long ago become a weekly tradition in the Darling family, weather permitting. It was a great chance to get together with family and friends and catch up on the week's events.

"Oh she wasn't about to get out of it without jumping." Bae assured him, smiling at the thought of it. Though they didn't often join them in their endeavors, John and Michael were a big part of what made life in Storybrooke worthwhile. At thirteen, John and August were the oldest members of the group. Bae and Wendy were both twelve, and Emma would be eleven on her soon upcoming birthday. At just eight years old, little Michael, with his mop top of Darling brown hair, was the youngest. Despite the five year age-span, they group got along famously. In a small town like Storybrooke, there wasn't much of a choice if you wanted to spend time with anyone of your own age group.

"Yeah, I don't doubt it." John said while he speared another marshmallow with a stick. He adjusted his glasses and held the gooey treat over the flames, where other marshmallows held by everyone else were roasting. One would think they'd get tired of having the same meals of mountain pies and s'mores every week, but it was actually quite the opposite. It was nice to have something so routine to look forward to, especially during the school year, when a Saturday night around the fire was heaven compared to sitting in stuffy classrooms.

"I'm going to go grab another soda. Anyone else want one?" Wendy asked, standing to go into the house. Several hands shot up, signaling that they wanted another, and Emma quickly stood up as well.

"I'll help you with those." Wendy nodded her thanks and together they headed to the Darling house for more refreshments.

As soon as his friends were out of ear shot, Bae filled August, John, and Michael in on the plans for Emma's birthday party. John promised to tell Wendy of the event after Emma had gone home for the night.

The rest of the night passed in a lazy blur. The friends chatted and snacked into the night, only calling it quits when Wendy's parents finally came out to send everyone home.

But for Baelfire, home only meant another night of listening to his parents argue.


	3. A Shot At Freedom

_._

_"One day we're gonna look back on this and laugh, baby_

_One day we're gonna say we grew up too fast, baby_

_It's alright, it's okay, if I've been acting crazy_

_I just thought you should know that only you amaze me, baby_

_'Cause I am running, I am running, I am running wild_

_I am running, I am running, I am running wild over you."_

_-J_ules _L_arson

Getting Emma to her surprise party turned out to not be much of a problem. They carried on with their usual activities throughout the morning, the only waver happening when it came to coming up with a decent excuse to stop at Emma's house at two o'clock. But in the end, she must not have suspected anything because the look on her face when they arrived at her home and they saw everyone that had gathered for her party was priceless. Emma stood, mouthing gaping open, staring at basically the entirety of the little town of Storybrooke gathered in her parents' house. Bae stood off to the side, just watching her with his trademark smile taking up his whole face. As Emma's shock turned into excitement, his grin only seemed to widen, if possible.

"You knew?!" Emma suddenly turned to him, her expression unreadable.

"I might have." Bae said, the grin never leaving his face.

Before Emma could reply, she was swept up in the bustle of the party, talking to friends, family, and just random town residents that showed up just because it was the kind of place where everybody knew everybody.

Bae watched her from across the crowd, fingering the long, thin box in his pocket. He'd already put his gift on the table with the others; he'd gotten her a great new book that everyone had been talking about. He'd never been much of a reader, so he wasn't even sure what it was about. But he knew Emma would like it. However, his real present for her was stashed away in his pocket. He wasn't sure if it was something he wanted to present to her in front of the entire town. And besides, he had a whole speech planned for later. He really just wanted to give her something that told her she could call this place home, that there were people here that cared about her. It hadn't gone unnoticed by him that every time they were in Emma's house, she gave a photo on her desk of her and her friends from Boston a longing look. She missed them. Of course she did. She was friends with those people for the first ten years of her life. Bae wanted to take it upon himself to make her feel that way about her friends here in Storybrooke.

Bae was roused from his thoughts when everyone began to make their way over to the gift table, where Emma was already grabbing her first gift, eager to unwrap them all and see what they held. Over the next twenty minutes or so, Emma reached into bags to retrieve assorted clothes, and pulled ribbons and unwrapped paper covered boxes filled with everything from books to toys. She loved Bae's choice of book, and vowed to read it first thing when she got a chance. Perhaps the biggest surprise though, came from Emma's parents. After the rest of the gifts had been opened, David wheeled in a large foosball table, saying that it would go in their den, but it would be a great game for Emma and her friends, especially on rainy days.

In no time at all, the guests began to make their leave, and the party fizzled out. Which was all the better, in Bae's opinion, because he simply couldn't wait to give Emma her other gift.

His plans were put on hold for just a bit longer, however, when Emma's parents insisted that he join them all for dinner. He complied, though, because he actually did enjoy spending time with Emma's family (and not to mention, her mother was an excellent cook). As soon as dinner was finished, though, he turned to Emma and asked, "Want to grab a couple of popsicles and go eat them down by the river?"

Emma readily agreed, and soon the two of them found themselves seated at "the edge of the miraculous," as they now called the rocky spot overlooking their favorite swimming hole in the river. They sat side by side, feet outstretched in front of them, sitting far enough back from the edge that their legs didn't drape over the edge. They ate their popsicles in silence for a few moments, Bae thinking of the best way to go about his plans of giving her the other gift. Earlier, he'd been planning this whole big, sophisticated speech, convincing her that Storybrooke could be her home, that he could be as much of a best friend as her friends in Boston had been.

But what came out instead?

"I wanna go to the beach someday."

So close.

So, so close.

"Well, we do live relatively close to shore, you know…" Emma said. Somehow that hadn't been where she'd thought the conversation was going to go, either.

"No, I mean, like down south. A proper beach."

"Proper beach?"

"One that's…. you know… warm?"

Emma laughed then. Yeah, Maine wasn't exactly the best when it came to climate.

"Where'd that idea come from?" Emma asked, turning to her friend.

Bae laughed, more at himself than anything. _Good going, Bae. That was totally going to get your point across._

"I honestly don't know." He paused, thinking. Where _had_ that thought come from? He'd never really even thought about leaving Storybrooke before.

Emma said nothing, just waiting for him to collect his thoughts.

"I guess it's not so much the beach, but just getting away." He finally said, so quietly that Emma wasn't sure if he was even talking to her. But then, he faced her and said more surely, "I really just need to get away sometimes. It really wouldn't even have to be the beach. Heck, I'd live at the top of a mountain if it meant gaining a little bit of freedom."

"Freedom from what?" Emma said, unsure of where the conversation was heading.

Bae hesitated. He hadn't even really meant to tell Emma what he did. These were thoughts that he was afraid of, admitting that he wasn't happy where he was.

"My parents." He finally said. "I just…" he paused again, but the look in Emma's eyes made him sure that he could actually tell her anything. He hadn't known her for very long, but he was sure, especially now, that he trusted her. "I just don't know how much longer I can deal with them."

Emma knew a little of what went on at Baelfire's home. When Bae had friends over, his parents were always civil with one another, but Bae had told his friends, including Emma, when things weren't that great and his parents were arguing again.

After a few minutes of silence, Bae suddenly said, "On second thought, maybe I would go to the beach. August told me some good things about it."

Emma looked at him curiously. "August was down south?"

Baelfire nodded, absentmindedly pushing the wooden stick from his popsicle, which he'd been turning around in his hands, into the ground beside him, where the grass met the rocky ledge. Without a word, Emma followed suit and the two sticks stood side by side.

"He and his dad went down there for this huge construction job that Marco was helping out with. August was just eight, but it was a big opportunity for Marco, since staying in Storybrooke all the time doesn't really make too much of a profit for him. They were there for two whole years. Two years that I didn't have one of my best friends in my life. It was totally alien to me; I'd grown up with him and Wendy, and even John and Michael, and never had I ever had to say goodbye to any of them. But I went two years without seeing or hearing from August. And then, when he was ten, he came back. And there was something different about him. I didn't really think much of it then, but now I'm starting to wonder if it was the freedom of getting out of his hometown that did it to him. Either way, he came back and even at such a young age, he was somehow wiser for it. Anyway, what I'm trying to get around to here, Emma, is that I know you miss Boston. I know you do."

He paused for a moment to look into her eyes, and there he could see that what he said was true. She really did miss her life in Boston. Just mentioning it brought a sad glaze to her eyes, and then she looked down at her lap, dodging his gaze.

"It was your home. Of course you miss it."

"But it's not anymore…"

"You wanna know what August told me when he first came back to Storybrooke? What he said when I was done asking him for all of his stories from down south? He got this sad look in his eyes suddenly, and then said that he'd had a great time living there, but it would never replace Storybrooke in his heart. He said, 'That's how you know you've really got a home. When you leave it, there's this feeling that you can't shake. You just miss it.' Even though he lived in the south for all that time, he never stopped thinking of Storybrooke as his home."

"Why are you telling me all this, Bae?"

"Because I don't want that to happen with you. I want you to be able to consider Storybrooke your home. I know you won't stop missing Boston, but I was kind of hoping I could make being here seem a little more worthwhile to you. You'll always have your friends back in Boston, but what I'm trying to get around to, here, is that I want you to call this, call us, your home too." He smiled at her, "And I've got you something to remind you of that." Taking his own cue, he reached into his pocket and retrieved the small box that'd been waiting there all afternoon.

"Bae…" she trailed off when he handed her the box, nodding at her to open it. When she did, her eyes widened and she couldn't stop the grin that took over her face. She picked up the necklace, setting the box aside as she did so. The silver amulet had a swan on the front, and Emma looked up at her friend and said, "A swan?" in an almost teasing tone.

"Too cheesy?" Bae asked, chuckling slightly.

"It's perfect." Suddenly her arms were around him, pulling him in for a tight hug. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome, Em."

She pulled back, and held the necklace out to him, asking him to put it on her. He shifted so that he was sitting behind her, and she held her hair to the side while he looped the silver chain around her neck and fastened the latch. When he was done, he moved back to his position beside her, and they spent some time in comfortable silence, enjoying each other's company.

It was nice to spend some time here, just the two of them. Bae could get used to that. Maybe sticking around Storybrooke, dealing with his parents, lacking the freedom he so desired… maybe it was all worth it if he only got to spend time with miss Emma Swan.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Two years later found the two friends in much the same place. But, at the same time, it was very different indeed.

Emma and Baelfire still spent most of their time with August and the Darlings, but ever since that first afternoon shortly after Emma's eleventh birthday, when Bae had given her the swan necklace, they'd also taken many more trips back to "the edge of the miraculous." It had long ago become a habit to bring popsicles to their spot and, once finished, push the wooden sticks into the ground. The cliffside was now lined with small sticks popping out of the ground.

The air between the two had been changing, as well. They were teenagers now, after all; Emma was now thirteen while Bae was fourteen. They almost couldn't help themselves. Seeing each other as anything but friends was an alien concept, but as confused as they were, they gravitated towards each other. But nothing more had ever developed between them. Both were almost too afraid to admit their changing feelings for each other.

As they sat next to one another at the edge of the miraculous one particular evening, Bae couldn't help sneaking glances at the girl beside him. She really was beautiful. When had he started thinking of her like that? When had he stopped seeing her as the little girl with the curly ponytail that he'd go swimming and play foosball with, and started seeing her as a beautiful young girl that he was perfectly content to just sit and spend quiet time with?

It wasn't until Emma smiled at him that he realized she'd caught him staring at her. She didn't say anything, though, and for that, he was grateful.

"It's getting late, we should probably head home." Bae finally said, though his tone implied that he'd really rather not go home at all. His parents had been fighting worse than ever lately. His mother had been spending less and less time at home, but when she was there, it was hell. Bae suspected she only stayed there at all for her son.

He shifted to stand, but something stopped him before he could get up. He looked down at Emma's hand, where it rested on his arm, before looking up to her face. There was a brief pause, both teens so unsure of themselves, before Emma mustered up the courage to bring her face closer to his. Before Baelfire knew what was happening, Emma's lips were on his. It was a gentle, very timid gesture, as both of them really had no idea what they were doing at all, but it spoke volumes. After their kiss, they remained in each other's space for a few moments, processing what had just happened. All at once, Emma stood, her hand that was still on Bae's arm pulling him along with her. She shifted her hand to his, their fingers intertwining nervously as they headed towards home together.

Once they reached the point where they split ways, Emma gave him one more short peck on the lips before bidding him goodnight and heading for home.

Bae walked the rest of the way home in a daze. Before he could really think much more about his changing feelings for his friend, he was turning the corner to his house and then immediately stopping in his tracks. He was greeted by blue and red flashing lights perched atop several police cars, all parked outside of his house. Before Bae could form a coherent thought and decided what to do, an officer approached him. He was explaining something to Bae, but Bae was only half listening. His attention was caught, however, when he heard the words "mother" and "died." Wait, what?

"What did you just say?" he asked the officer, suddenly a lot more focused than he'd been a moment earlier.

"Your mother's been shot, son." The officer repeated. "She's gone."

"Wh….what?" Bae stuttered, not sure he heard correctly. "…Who…"

"Your father." The officer, who Bae was pretty sure he recognized as Mr. Humbert, his classmate Graham's father, though he couldn't really think straight at the moment, answered Bae's unasked question. "Your father shot her. I'm so sorry, boy."

He could see a figure in the back of one of the police cars, who he assumed was his father, though he couldn't really make out his features in the quickly fading light.

Bae started shaking as he looked up at Mr. Humbert.

"Now I know this is all pretty scary," Mr. Humbert continued, his hands resting on Bae's shoulders, trying to control the boy's frightened shaking. "We're gonna call in someone from the county to take care of you, if that's all right. We're gonna make sure you're taken care of. This is a horrible, horrible thing that should never happen to a young boy like you, but we're gonna take good care of you. Alright, Baelfire?"

Bae didn't answer. He just ran.

Before Mr. Humbert knew what was happening, the young teen was out of his grasp and sprinting down the street, in the direction from which he'd come. Bae didn't go back to the river, though. Even in his terrified state, he knew it would be unwise to go walking through the woods in the dark. He could have gone to Emma's house, but he knew she'd want him to explain what was happening, and he wasn't up for that. Without even realizing where he was going, he found himself standing outside of Marco's house, reaching under the mat by the garage door for the key that he knew they kept there, and letting himself into the garage. He seated himself on an empty workbench against one wall. He must have been sitting there for no more than half an hour when a sleepy-faced Marco appeared in the doorway that lead to the house. Neither of them said anything, but Marco took in Bae's forlorn expression before disappearing back into the house. Another ten minutes passed and Marco came back, this time with a pillow and two blankets folded in his arms. He silently offered them to Bae, giving him a small smile as he did so. Bae reached out and accepted them. Marco reached out and gave Bae's shoulder a quick squeeze before heading back into the house for the night. He didn't need Bae to explain what had happened. He knew what the boy really needed was just a haven, somewhere to stay where he wouldn't have to talk if he didn't want to. Heaven knows the young boy needed to think about some things.

Bae sort of disappeared from his own life for a few days. He stayed in Marco's garage, silently helping him with projects during the day. By the second night, August had come out, offering him a plate of food for dinner, but he took his father's lead and didn't push Bae to say anything.

It wasn't until the third night that Bae was roused from his slump by a suspicious rustling outside of the garage. He sat up from his makeshift bed in the garage, his breath catching when he saw the door handle being messed with. Whoever was out there, having had no success with opening the door thus far, began to pick at the lock. Before Bae could even make the decision to go into the house for help, the garage door was opening and a man stood there. He took a few steps into the garage, but Bae couldn't even make out his face clearly in the dark. It wasn't until the man spotted him sitting against the wall and approached him that Bae realized that he didn't know this man.

He knew literally everybody in Storybrooke. Everybody.

But he had never seen this man before in his life.

"Baelfire?" The man said in a low voice, and Bae could hear some sort of an accent.

Bae didn't answer, but shifted further away from the man. He couldn't get far, though, because he was already backed up against the garage wall.

"My name's Jones. Killian Jones. I work with the county. I'm here to take you to safety."

A social worker? Why was he here in the middle of the night? Breaking into Marco's garage of all things…

"Prove it." Bae stuttered. And sure enough, the man produced a badge of some sort. An I.D. card issued by the county. Bae looked from the card up to the man holding it. Now that he was closer, Bae could see his face more clearly. He had short, dark hair that looked pretty tousled, and his slim face was covered in a layer of stubble. He didn't look particularly like a bad guy, but his appearance gave that sort of impression upon first glance.

"Believe me now?" The man gave Bae an impatient smile. "It's important that I get you somewhere safe. The whole event of your mother's killing… I'm afraid there's more to it than what you were told before you ran off. I can explain if you just come with me."

Bae wasn't sure what made him do it, but it seemed like the prospect of finally getting away from this all was too appealing to make him ask anymore questions. Before he knew it, he was riding in a car with a mysterious social worker, the "Leaving Storybrooke" sign staring at him through the rearview mirror.

Bae didn't ask where they were going. He simply read the road signs as they passed them to figure out that they were headed south, not that there was much other choice of where to head in Maine. Somewhere along the line, Killian tried to explain what was going to happen to Baelfire, but Bae didn't quite understand it all. Apparently, from what he gathered from what Killian told him, the events surrounding his mother's death put him in danger. They were going south, far south, and nobody could know where. He wasn't allowed to contact his friends. He wasn't allow to try to go back.

He wasn't allowed to even answer to the name Baelfire anymore.

And that's how Neal Cassidy was born.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**A/N: It's been a little while since I've updated this fic, but I'll try to do so more often. Please leave a review! I mean it. The more feedback I get, the more motivated I am to continue writing. More coming soon!**


	4. Running

_._

_"Maybe one day I'll come back here_

_Maybe one day I'll be able to love you like I should_

_I know it looks like I'm running_

_I never said that what we had here wasn't good_

_If I don't try now, I'll go crazy"_

_-T_yler _W_ard

It wasn't until they'd reached Massachusetts that he considered the fact that maybe running off with a total stranger in the middle of the night wasn't such a great idea. By then, Bae had somewhat unwillingly caught a few hours of sleep, and he'd calmed down enough that he was almost able to think coherently.

It wasn't until they reached New Jersey that he started to question whether this man was even who he said he was.

Sure, Killian Jones had an I.D. that said he indeed worked for the county. But would the county really send someone for him in the dead of night? Would the county go to such lengths to remove him from his life entirely?

…Would the county stop at a motel near the shore in Jersey and insist that he cut his mop of hair shorter so that he'd be less recognizable?

No, Bae really didn't think Jones worked for the county at all. But it was strange. Where a feeling of fear should be settling in his stomach at the thought of being kidnapped and taken away from his life in Storybrooke, Bae felt…. hope? Maybe it was hope. Hope that he could finally get the freedom he'd always desired. Hope that he could still have a chance to experience the world outside of Storybrooke, Maine. Was there even such a thing?

Who was he kidding? He was bloody terrified. He didn't know when he'd unconsciously decided to go with this man that he'd be taken to far away from his home, that he'd never get to see his friends or family (or at least what was left of it) again… He was a child, being dragged away from the only world he'd ever known on a midnight journey with complete stranger who was lying about who he was.

So yeah, he was terrified.

Too terrified to back down.

Too terrified to try to run away from Jones.

There was no going back now. He pushed his fear to the back of his mind and followed Jones into the motel, where the older man made quick work of giving him a hair cut. One simple change and yet, when Bae glanced in the mirror afterwards, he hardly recognized himself. Gone was his mop top of his childhood. Perhaps it wasn't only the haircut, but the look in his eyes that made his own reflection look strange. This wasn't Baelfire Gold whose face met him in the mirror. No, this was someone else entirely.

Jones told him they'd spend the night at the motel before heading back out later for the rest of their trip. He still wouldn't tell Bae where it was they were going; all he knew was that they were going south. But south could mean anything.

That was the night that Jones filled him in on more of the details of this escape, as Bae was now thinking of it as. He still didn't know all that much about his mother's murder, what had caused it, how Killian had known where to find him… What he did know was that he had a new name. Neal Cassidy. He sort of liked that. A new name for a new person.

He just wished becoming this Neal character didn't mean leaving Bae's friends behind.

But hey, Neal could make friends too, right?

But could Neal meet someone as beautiful, sweet, and kind as Emma Swan?

Damn it, what had he done? Leaving that beautiful young girl just after finally working up the nerve to kiss her at last.

No one could ever truly replace Emma… or August or the Darlings, either. Maybe he could go against Killian's wishes, return to Storybrooke, if only to visit. But the look on Jones' face when he'd told Bae that he could never return gave him the impression that it'd be incredibly dangerous to return, if only because Jones might decide to drop the nice guy act and hurt him.

He didn't doubt that he was capable of that.

Bae, err, _Neal_ (as he really should start thinking of himself) allowed himself to settle onto one of the two beds in the motel room, collapsing and drifting into a deep sleep despite the fact that it was about two o'clock in the afternoon when they'd stopped and he'd slept in the car for the last few hours. Jones, however, wasn't keen on continuing to drive much longer without a proper rest. So that was that. It was nightfall again by the time they both woke again, threw their few belongings back into the car (was it even Killian's car? Neal wasn't sure of anything in this situation anymore) and headed out.

Jones drove through the night, only stopping to pick up some take out for the both of them to eat, and a few times for bathroom breaks. About four hours after passing the "Welcome to Virginia!" sign, Neal fell asleep again. He couldn't trust Jones as far as he could throw him, but somehow his weary body won over and he kept falling asleep in the man's presence.

When Neal woke again, the car was coming to a stop outside of a large, two-story house. He peered at the building through sleep-clouded eyes. The grey-blue paint was chipping, and a few shingles were out of place, but altogether it wasn't in bad shape. Looking past the house, Neal's eyes widened when he realized they were right by the shore.

"Where are we?" He asked slowly, still so unsure about interacting with Jones.

"North Carolina. Jacksonville. Say hello to your new house."

"This? This is where I'm living?" Neal choked out a response. How the hell had Jones come across an oceanfront property? He decided not to question it. Jones, in the short time he'd known him, had proved to not be a fan of too many questions.

"Correction: This is where _we're_ living. Someone's got to look out for you."

Neal decided not to comment on that either. He'd basically been looking out for himself ever since his parents had decided their feud was more important than their child. He'd gone many nights with having to provide his own dinner, because his mother wasn't around and his father was too burdened with his anger to even realize that Baelfire was even there. He'd found himself spending more and more time with Emma and his other friends, looking for any excuse not to be home.

Rather than ask for anymore information for the time being, Neal opened the car door and stepped out slowly, taking in the view.

The house sat on top of a small, grassy hill. A curved, gravel driveway led from the house, back out to the road that they had come from, lined with scattered magnolia trees. The house itself was an old, clapboard-style beach home, two stories high. Neal slowly wandered around the side of the house, to the backyard. A small expanse of green grass greeted him, with a large pecan tree off to one side. About thirty yards down, the grass met sand, and beyond that, an enormous body of water.

Neal hadn't realized that Jones had followed him from the car until he came up behind him. He turned back to the expansive bay, noting the wooden docks that started popping out from the beach about a dozen yards or so past the backyard of their new home. His eyes followed the line of docks, admiring the many scattered ships that were docked among them, until he finally took in the large marina in full. It was quite massive, and Neal figured that a great deal of business must be carried out through those ports.

Without saying anything to Jones, he turned and walked towards the house, the elder man silently following. Jones unlocked the front door and they both stepped inside. Neal slowly paced the lower floor, exploring the worn house. The interior wasn't in much better shape than the outside of the house. Chipping paint adorned some walls, while old wallpaper hung from others. The place was scarcely furnished. Really the only furniture on the lower floor was a worn out leather sofa, a small table, and a few chairs.

During his absentminded scan of the ground floor, Neal heard what sounded like footsteps above him. His heart rate quickened and he looked back at Jones. Where they not alone after all? But Jones looked rather calm. He must have known somebody else was here.

Neal turned back around and his eyes met those of a figure on the stairs. Eyes that should not have that much light in them. Eyes that should be closed for good, buried six feet underground.

And suddenly it was clear why Jones would never allow Neal to return to Storybrooke. He couldn't risk anyone finding out about his dirty little secret. He couldn't risk anyone knowing that Robert Gold was innocent.

For staring back at him, a light smile upon her face, was his mother.

**A/N: Yes, this was a rather short chapter. I'll make up for it in the next chapter or two. And oh, how about that whole Milah not actually being dead thing? That wasn't a part of the original story plan, but I kind of like it…. **

**Anyway… Review and let me know what you're thinking! The more feedback I get, the faster I update. Thank you all.**


	5. After The Storm

_._

_"I remember thinking about forever_

_Sitting there with you by the river_

_We danced in the headlights_

_and fell for the first time"_

_-L_ady _A_ntelbellum

Baelfire Gold disappeared without a trace.

The last anyone had seen him, he'd been hiding out in Marco's garage for a few nights after his mother's murder. One morning, Marco woke and had gone to see if Bae had wanted any breakfast, only to find the garage empty. Search and rescue teams were continually trying to find any clues as to where he had gone, but it was literally as if he'd vanished into thin air.

Life in Storybrooke had been rather gloomy since the day Baelfire had disappeared. Emma felt the pain of his absence more than anyone. She often found herself sitting alone at the edge of the miraculous these past few days, staring coldly at the line of wooden popsicle sticks planted in the ground.

It was almost as if the air itself was colder without Bae here. The woods and the river seemed lifeless and still, no longer reflecting the joy and youthful expressions of the children that enjoyed them. Emma found herself drifting from her other friends, choosing to spend time walking alone through the woods or sitting silently by the river. Not too long ago, she and Bae had sat here together. Not too long ago that they'd finally shared their first kiss.

But that shared moment was over and suddenly, all too soon, the world had flipped upside-down. Emma's hand instinctually went up to hold her swan pendant, still hung around her neck by a silver chain the same way it had been for two years, ever since that day when Baelfire had given it to her. She thought about how open and hopeful their futures had looked that day. They'd both not only made a new friend, but had connected with one another on a level that was alien to the both of them. They weren't sure what it had meant until they day when they'd finally given in to the connection and kissed for the first time.

Her hand tightened its hold on the pendant as she sighed and looked towards the river. She watched its slow path downstream, her mind elsewhere. She hoped they would find Bae soon. She didn't know how much longer she could handle this loneliness.

Sure, her other friends were still around, and they even still had their weekly fire in the Darlings' backyard, though the air was a lot less energetic than it usually was. Even young Michael, who hardly understood the situation at all, was at a loss for words, and he sat quietly staring into the flickering light of the flames.

Meanwhile, Robert Gold was holed up in one of the few cells that the town had to offer for criminals, but Emma would hardly consider him as such. She knew he didn't kill anyone. How could he have? He was definitely a scary guy, don't get her wrong, but a murderer? She wondered what would become of him. He'd been basically sentenced to spend the rest of his life in that cell, but Storybrooke's government made a point to not keep criminals in either of their only two cells too long because they'd need them for other, less minor, offenses. Emma reckoned Gold would spend as much time in Storybrooke's small police station as possible before a decision could be made on whether he was worth moving to a larger prison in the closest city.

Or maybe Bae could come home and tell everyone that his father was, of course, innocent and they'd all live happily ever after.

Yeah, maybe.

Emma didn't count on it though.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

"…. M… Mom?"

Neal stood frozen, staring at what should have been a ghost.

"Hello Bae…" Milah started softly, taking a step towards her teenage son. But the movement helped Neal break his shocked stare and he stepped backwards until his back collided with the wall. "Bae, please. Let us explain."

"No…. no… You're not here." Neal stuttered, not even realizing that he was speaking aloud. "You're dead."

"I'm here, Bae. I'm right here." Milah's words came faster, trying desperately to explain to her terrified son before she lost her nerve. "The shooting, the death, it was all fake. It was the only way."

"The only way to what?" Neal interjected, his voice sounding more solid now that his shock was turning to anger. "To kidnap me? To put my father in jail? What? What is this all about?" His voice gradually grew in volume until he finally shouted, "Tell me!"

"Calm down, son." Jones reached out a hand towards the boy, but Neal dodged quickly away from him.

"I'm not your son!" Neal shouted at him before turning back to his mother. "Tell me what's going on!"

The three of them stood still for a moment, a heavy silence falling between them while Milah decided the best route to take. Finally, she came right out and said it, "Killian and I are in love." She looked right at her son, but Neal avoided eye contact. He stared at a spot near Milah's shoulder, the empty wall seeming to help him gather his thoughts.

His jaw clenched and he looked back to his mother, saying, "That's what this is about, isn't it? Not just the running away, but everything. The past two years, you and dad fighting, you not being around…. it was all because you loved someone else." His voice was quieter now, almost as if he were just speaking to himself.

"Your father's a very stubborn man, Bae." Milah took another step closer, and this time Neal didn't move away. "He would have never let me leave. Something had to be done."

"So you got him sent to jail for supposedly murdering you?!" Neal's voice rose again, this time looking his mother in the eyes.

"I just wanted what was best for you, Bae. Here, with us, you can have a good life. You can make new friends, you can spend time at the beach, and you never, ever, have to listen to your father and I fight again. You can be happy here, Bae. Please, just… just give us the chance."

Neal didn't reply. He wanted to tell her no, he really did. But it wasn't like he even had a choice. He was fourteen years old. He couldn't even drive yet, and even if he could, he'd have to get past Killian if he wanted to get back home. Even if he wasn't half the size of the older man, Jones would probably kill him before he'd ever let him go back to Storybrooke. The risk was too high. Nobody could ever know that Robert Gold was innocent. Nobody could ever know that Milah was alive.

No, it seemed Neal Cassidy was stuck here, whether he liked it or not.

Which he didn't.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Several days later, and Neal still hadn't said anything else to either his mother or Jones. But that day, he silently shuffled off down the street to the bus stop, ready but not ready to attend his first day at his new school. Milah watched from in front of their big blue house as he stood alone on the nearby street corner where he'd been told to wait. He apprehensively shifted his new book bag on his shoulders, not quite able to stand still. It was amazing to him that his mother and Jones were okay with letting him go off to school, where they wouldn't be able to keep an eye on him.

Not that he had the means to try to run away anyway.

"Hello," a confident, accented voice said from behind him, causing Neal to turn. A boy, probably about Neal's age, was approaching the bus stop. He too had a bag slung over one shoulder, the other hand in his jeans pocket. He had light, short hair and his friendly smile reached all parts of his face. "Are you new around here?"

"Uhh, yeah." Neal said, unsure of what to make of the other boy. "I'm Neal. Neal Cassidy." At the last moment, he remembered to use his new name.

"Robin Maguire." The boy said, holding out a hand.

Neal accepted his hand and shook it as he asked, "Where are you from? Your accent, I mean," he added, not wanting to sound rude.

"Ahh, no worries." Robin smiled again, "I'm from London. In England. My parents and I just moved her a year or two ago."

"That's pretty cool… you like it here?"

"Yeah, I mean it takes some getting used to, but what's not to like? Especially in a place like North Carolina. It's so beautiful here."

"Yeah, it is…" Neal trailed off, glancing around and for the first time really taking in his surroundings. A slight chill in the breeze was all that suggested the early autumn weather setting in.

"You nervous?" Robin asked as they waited.

"Hmm?" Neal said absentmindedly.

"You know, first day and all?"

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, I guess you could say that. I've just never had to start at a new school before."

"Well hey," Robin said, bringing one hand up to grasp Neal's shoulder, "at least you've got one friend, right?" He sounded unsure about the last part, looking for Neal to give him some sort of confirmation that he'd like to be friends.

Neal looked at Robin and saw sincerity in his face. If he was stuck down here, he'd definitely need a friend, that was for sure.

"Yeah." He smiled then, and Robin smiled back, lowering his arm once again. "Yeah I guess I do."

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Weeks later, Neal was almost content to put running back to Maine on hold. He knew there was no possible way for him to slip past Jones, not to mention he had no way of transport if he even managed to get that far. He didn't even try, though, for one simple reason. He was terrified of Killian Jones.

But he settled in to his new life as best as he could. He and Robin had become fast friends, hanging out every day at school and often spending time with one another in the afternoons as well. They'd take walks or ride bikes around town and Robin would show him around. Sometimes they ventured down to the beach, and although it was getting too chilly to swim for long, they enjoyed tossing a frisbee back and forth until the sun set over the horizon. They also discovered a mutual love of music, and when Robin saw how entranced Neal was when he played his guitar for him the first time, he offered to teach Neal how to play as well, so that they could play together.

There were no popsicles by the river. There were no weekly campfires in the backyard. But Neal and Robin established their own sort of friendship, one strong enough to ease the doubts in Neal's mind about staying in this place.

Life at home was another story. Neal supposed that part of the reason why he enjoyed hanging out with Robin so much was that it kept his mind off of his actual situation, and kept him away from Jones. Jones was friendly enough, sure, but anytime Neal looked at him he got the impression that he was only putting up with Neal for Milah's sake. Jones wouldn't hesitate to hurt him, that Neal knew without ever being told. Neal was probably only brought along in all of this because Milah wanted him there. Or maybe it was to hurt his father even more…

He wasn't about to ask.

A few months after arriving in North Carolina, Neal found himself seated at a booth in a little diner on the shore, not too far of a walk from his house. He had a small photo in his hands, creased down the middle and bend in one corner. Robin found him smiling down at it when he joined him for lunch.

"What's that?" Robin inquired, his accent stronger when he was asking questions.

Neal startled a bit, so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed his friend joining him. He glanced back down at the photo, biting his lip and debating on whether he should confide in his new friend about something in the life he left behind.

Finally he turn the photo in his hands and passed it to Robin before saying, "Just a photo. Of my friends back home."

Robin studied the faces in the picture for a moment before looking up at Neal. "You miss them?"

"More than you could ever know." Neal sighed.

"Aren't you in contact with them anymore?"

"It's… complicated." He scoffed. _Complicated was an understatement._

Robin didn't push him, just went back to looking intently at the photo. "Can you tell me about them?" He finally asked.

_Oh, what's the harm in that?_

Neal pointed to one side of the photo, eager to be able to just talk about his friends. "That's John. He's the oldest. And that's his little brother, Michael, and their sister, Wendy." He pointed to each face in the photo as he spoke, his tone growing softer to reflect his fondness of the people he was describing. "Now, John and Michael didn't hang out with us as much, but they were still a big part of our group. We always used to have fires every week at their house. Kind of a weekly routine type of thing."

"We could have a fire some night, if you wanted." Robin suggested, looking up at Neal as he spoke. Neal smiled in return.

"I think I'd like that." He returned his gaze to the photograph and pointed to it again. "That's August. We've been best friends ever since we were born, practically. He's a year older than I am, but we lived in such a small town, it never mattered how old we were as long as we could have fun together. And that," he faltered on the last face in the photo. _That right there is the love of my life, _he thought, but instead he said, "That's Emma. She only moved to town a few years ago, but…" He trailed off again. How was he possibly to ever put his friendship with Emma into words? How could he describe the quiet evenings eating popsicles by the river, or the look on her face when he'd given her the swan necklace, or the taste of her lips when they'd finally kissed. How could he describe the pang of guilt he felt every time he thought of her, of how he'd left her to come here, probably never to see her again?

"You liked her…" Robin said thoughtfully.

"Yeah." Neal said. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life. Yeah, I really really liked her. I might have even loved her."

"But…?"

"But I had to leave her. I had to come here." A single tear escaped Neal's eyes as he spoke, now more to himself than to Robin. "And now I may never even see her again."

And in that moment, after finally saying those words out loud, Neal truly felt his heart break as the weight of what being here meant fully sunk in.

"I really hope that's not true, mate." Robin said honestly.

"I guess fate just has its own plan."

**A/N: Woahh. A new chapter already? Don't get too used to it, but I was kind of on a roll with this one. As always, leave a review to let me know what's on your mind! Thanks to everyone that keeps coming back for more.**


	6. The Letter

_._

_"I bet you're wondering where I've been_

_What town I'm calling home for now_

_And just how long I'll be there_

_before I turn around_

_Truth is I finally found a place_

_where I can start to plant some roots_

_It's about as close to being perfect_

_It's got everything but you."_

_-K_ip _M_oore

It was almost two years after arriving in North Carolina that Neal finally worked up the courage to defy Killian Jones and try to contact Storybrooke.

Deciding that calling on the phone was out of the question (there was no way that he would be able to slide that one past Jones, who questioned it even when he just called Robin), Neal grabbed his school bag and headed out the back door of their house. He crossed the short backyard and within minutes was headed down the beach, in the opposite direction of the marina. He avoided some tourists wandering the beach, searching for seashells, and made his way to a long pier that jutted into the ocean. His tennis-shoed feet carried him until he found an empty bench near the end of the pier. He tossed his bag down on the bench and plopped down next to it, opening it, and taking out his notebook and a pen.

He'd considered many times sending his father a letter, but he knew now that it would be best not to. If he had indeed been charged after he and his mother had disappeared, Robert Gold was in Storybrooke's jail. And if he was in jail, a letter would have to make it past the sheriff. The last thing Neal needed was the police knowing he and his mother were out there.

Jones wouldn't like that at all.

No, it'd be best to write a letter to the next best thing… the only other person he just couldn't stop thinking about finding a way back to.

Neal took a few moments to collect his thoughts, and then he began to write.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

When Emma received a letter in mail with no return address on it, her curiosity was piqued. Assuming it to be something from one of her old friends that she'd left behind years ago in Boston, she carried the envelope to her room, sat on the bed, and opened it. Inside were two sheets of paper, careful scrawl written on one side of each of them.

Once she started reading, however, it was clear that the letter was not from anyone in Boston at all. The only person she could think of that would write such a letter was long gone, assumed dead. She shook herself out of her thoughts and focused on getting through the letter.

_Emma,_

_ I'm risking an awful lot to sit here and write you this letter. But I just had to reach out to you, to let you know that I'm alright. I can't tell you where I am, or the circumstances surrounding my departure. But I can tell you that I hope that this goodbye isn't forever. I know you deserved to have this letter two years ago, but I hope that it's enough for you to know that I still care about you. I miss you, Em. More than you know._

_ It may seem strange, considering that we only really knew each other for a short time, but you're the best friend that I've ever had. I've never had another friend that I have connected with as strongly as with you. Our friendship was the only thing in this crazy life of mine that I could ever trust. They say young love is reckless, but damn it, I don't care. I love you, Emma Swan. Whether or not you feel the same way about me, I love you. _

_ Here's the thing. I'm not the kind of man you deserve. I know that. I've got more scars than I can count, and not a single one can be physically seen on my body._

_ But do you remember that day, shortly after your eleventh birthday, when we went down to the creek like we always used to… the very first day we went there together?_

_ You were so homesick for Boston. You didn't think you'd ever be able to call Storybrooke your home. I told you the story of the time that August and his old man went down south for two years for a construction job. At just ten years old, August came back and told all sorts of stories about his time down there, and then gave me some of the best advice I've ever gotten, advice that I then passed on to you that day at the creek. He said "That's how you know you've really got a home. When you leave it, there's this feeling you can't shake. You just miss it."_

_ I don't know if I ever had a home in Storybrooke, when I think about what August said that day. Since I left, I haven't really grown to miss it much. Not the old garage where Leroy taught us how to fix cars. Not the steady bustle of the regulars grabbing a meal at the diner. Not the playground where August and I used to sword fight with nothing but a couple of wooden sticks and our imaginations. Not what's left of the family I'd once thought to be inseparable. Not my father. Not the man who killed my mother. Not the darkness that's been haunting me ever since a strange man showed up at my house one night and claimed to be taking me to safety. My past in that town is as dark as the ink that I use to write this letter._

_ But there is one thing I miss about that place. One thing that I've found myself searching fruitlessly for since the day I left Storybrooke. One thing more than anything else in the world that I've come to realize I considered my home._

_ You._

_ Here's the thing. I love you. I'm always going to love you. It's easy to keep my feet moving away from everything I've ever known, everything I've ever loved. But as far as my feet take me, my heart's been left behind in a small town called Storybrooke, and I don't think I can ever return for it._

_ Nevertheless, I will see you again someday, Emma. _

_ It may be days, weeks, months…. even years until we see each other again. But if there's love, and I know with all my heart that I love you… those are the ties that bind. And I'll have you in my heart, forever._

_ Time is nothing._

_ –Baelfire_

Bae.

Emma had thought through so many scenarios regarding how and why Bae had disappeared, but she'd never fully allowed herself to believe that he was still alive and well. The search for him had long ago come up inconclusive, and most folks in Storybrooke just thought it best to not mention him anymore.

She reread the letter three times before finally folding it back up, inserting it back into the envelope that it had arrived in, standing, and leaving the house. Before she knew what she was doing, her feet had carried her to Wendy's house. Not bothering to knock, she slid through the door and took the stairs two at a time. When she reached Wendy's bedroom, she tapped one quick knock on the door before opening it and stepping in with a dumbstruck look pasted on her face.

"Emma?" Wendy looked up from the book she was reading in surprise. "What's wrong?"

"I… I don't know." Emma stumbled over the words, and Wendy waited for her to continue. It had seemed like all coherent thought had escaped her mind the moment she realized who had sent the letter. "I got this letter." It was only then that Wendy noticed the paper clutched in Emma's hand.

"Okay…" Wendy ventured, hoping for a little more of an explanation.

Emma hesitated. Surely it was okay to be telling Wendy this… Baelfire hadn't said anything in the letter about not sharing it with anyone…

"From Bae." Emma finally met Wendy's gaze.

Wendy squinted at her, unsure if she'd heard right. "Baelfire?"

"Yeah." Emma sighed.

"Emma… Are you sure? I mean, they said he was dead. What are the chances–"

"I'm sure." Emma gave her a hard stare, and without another word extended the letter towards her friend. "Read it for yourself," and Wendy did just that.

When she was done, Wendy looked up at Emma with much a similar expression that had been on Emma's face on her walk over here.

"Well… that was unexpected."

Emma couldn't help but laugh at that. "Yeah, that's an understatement."

"So, now what?"

"What do you mean?" Emma's forehead scrunched in mild confusion.

"I mean, this is big. Baelfire is alive. Think about what this could do. Think about his father."

"Look, Wendy," Emma cut her friend off before she could say anymore. "We don't know where or when this letter was written. We don't know where it came from. Telling anyone about this would cause a huge stir that would amount to nothing. It's not like we can trace where it came from. So, the best thing to do is to just keep quiet about it. He said so himself in the letter, he was at risk just sending it, and he couldn't even tell us why he left, let alone where he went. Obviously there's something bigger going on here than we know."

A moment passed before Wendy said, "Okay, fine. But don't you think Mr. Gold deserves to know that his son is alive, at the very least?"

"Fine. I'll tell him that much. But then I'm going to keep this to myself," she said, looking straight at Wendy, "and so are you."

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Robert Gold was, you could say, depressed.

It was a waste to try to defend his case. He certainly never killed anyone, but his wife and son's disappearance was so well crafted that everything pointed right to him. Everything about that night was very much a blur, anyway. All he remembered was that he and Milah had had another argument. He hadn't even been there when Bae had come home from seeing his friends; he'd been too busy being whisked away in the back of a cop car for a crime he did not commit.

But the word around town back then was that Bae had disappeared after his mother had been killed. Nobody knew anything about his sudden absence. Marco had been looking after him for a few days, but he'd awakened one morning to find the boy gone, vanished into thin air. He's witnessed the sheriff (being that Storybrooke's station was so small that the jail cells were literally right by the sheriff's desk) ordering search teams to scour the land, looking for Baelfire. But alas, they had come up empty handed, and eventually had given up looking altogether. Baelfire Gold was assumed dead.

Dead.

Gold couldn't bear the thought of using the word in relation to his only son. Even now, years after seeing his son for what would be the last time, it stung to know that he'd never see him again. Never watch him drawing at the dinner table. Never see him doing cannonballs into the river. Never watch him grow up, fall in love, and have a family of his own.

Bae was just gone.

His thoughts were interrupted when the door of the station opened. Assuming it was Sheriff Humbert returning from patrol, Gold was surprised to see young Emma Swan enter the station with small, hesitant steps.

"Miss Swan? What are you doing here, dear?" He inquired, rising from where he sat on his small bunk and making his way to the front of the cell. He rested his hands on the bars and looked at the girl curiously. She'd certainly grown since he had seen her last. Gone was the young girl he'd come to enjoy seeing spending time with Bae; she was now a teenager, soon to be blossoming into a young woman. He tried to imagine how Bae would have grown had he still been here.

"Hi, Mr. Gold…" Emma started, and he remained quiet, giving her a chance to collect her thoughts. "Look, I know I'm not exactly supposed to be in here, especially with Sheriff Humbert gone and all, so I'll make this quick."

She reached into her pocket and produced the letter.

"I got this letter in the mail… I'd rather not let you read it because it's kind of personal…" She kept hesitating, trying to come up with a way to just spit out what she wanted to say. "But it's from your son."

"My son?"

"Yeah…"

"My son is dead…" Gold started, his eyes falling from her gaze as he did so.

"See, that's the thing. He's not. He's alive. And I don't know where he is or why he left… but I just wanted you to know that he's out there. You deserved to know that much."

Then she turned on her heel and left, making sure she wasn't around when the sheriff returned and leaving Mr. Gold in a dazed state.

Certainly it couldn't be true.

Who was he to believe the tellings of a teenager, anyway? He needed more proof. But the mere thought that his son was out there somewhere was enough to spark something inside of him that he hadn't felt in a very long time. He startled when he realized what it was.

Hope.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**A/N: Hello all you wonderful people (or you know, like all ten of you). Hope you enjoyed the new chapter. That letter was the start of a bridge between Neal's two worlds that until now have had to remain separate for very real reasons. I don't want to give too much away, but I can tell you that next chapter will see one or two of our characters crossing over that bridge and to the other side, if you get what I'm saying.**

**Also, I mentioned this on Tumblr, but at the end of Neal's letter, he quotes, "It may be days, weeks, months… even years until we see each other again. But if there's love… those are the ties that bind. And I'll have you in my heart, forever." So, yeah, that's where the title of this story was pulled from. Brownie points to anyone that knows what movie that quote is a reference to!**

**Extra brownie points if you know which of my all time favorite books the last line "Time is nothing." comes from. **

**As always, new stuff coming soon. Be sure to follow me on here for new chapters, and check me out at anybodyseenmydignity on tumblr for any sneak peek material I may have to offer in between chapters. (or, you know, if you wanna just talk. Making friends is cool too. xD)**

**Leave a review, and I'll see you all soon.**


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